


The Poetry of Bad Timings

by Blizzaurus



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, I'm sorry for all the cheese, Marriage Proposal, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 06:02:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15745743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blizzaurus/pseuds/Blizzaurus
Summary: Five times Marcus more or less intentionally proposed to Abby, and one time she proposed to him.





	The Poetry of Bad Timings

 

**i.**

 

When Marcus was brought into medical after "the incident", Abby almost doubled over in laughter. After a simple scouting mission on the outskirts of the camp, Marcus' face and hands were covered in red, itchy rash, and his doctor seemed to think it was the funniest sight in the whole world because she couldn't stop giggling long enough to find antihistamine from the drawer. 

It had all been Bellamy's fault. The boy, among some other scouts, had helped Marcus lower himself down a ravine out of which they had heard the sound of a dripping water. Marcus had merely wanted to examine whether the water was clean enough for the place to be used as a well, but just before Marcus had been lowered down enough with the rope to determine that, Bellamy had been startled by the call of a grounder's bugle and let go of the rope. Following their leader's example, others had released their grip as well and Marcus had fallen into the soft cushion of a poison ivy bush.

Abby was still laughing as Marcus recounted the story, but he was no longer bothered by it. She was applying some cooling cream on his skin as Marcus sat on the examination table, and he realized he didn't particularly mind having her fingers caress his face while she giggled. However, the warm sensation that lodged between his lungs when Abby touched him was one of the things he should keep carefully pushed into the back in his mind. Nothing good could come from exploring those feelings.

"When you left, I knew you would come back with some sort of an injury" she smiled, brushing her thumb over his cheek. Marcus fought the urge to close his eyes at her touch. "Arkadia has been up and running for almost two months now and not a week has gone by without you needing medical assistance."

There might have been another reason why Marcus was eager to visit medbay, but it was for the best if Abby didn't know that. 

"It was not exactly my plan for the day to dive into some poison ivy," Marcus said gruffly. 

"It does not make it any less you for it to happen, though. Do you remember that stray raccoon Jasper found seeking shelter from the rain under our water boiler?"

"Don't remind me," Marcus huffed. It had taken days to convince him to give up the animal, and by that time three full crates of goods had already become compromised. 

"His excuse for taking it inside was that the poor thing looked so miserable, so endearingly helpless and vulnerable to all the evil in the world that he couldn't help but assume the position of its guardian. He said he had been overwhelmed by the primal instinct to protect the innocent, silly little creature by any means necessary. I knew that was most of that speech of his was just pretty babble to cover up his ass after he had let the raccoon loose in the mess hall, but the point still stands. That exact innate emotion he described is what I feel when I look at your rash-covered, idiot face."

Marcus glowered at Abby as she laughed, her fingers clamped over her mouth.

"Your faith in me is _inspiring_ ," Marcus said dryly. "I could've died, you know."

"You may be an idiot, but you're my idiot," she quipped, wiping her hand with a cloth. She turned away from him with a twinkle in her eye. 

The following silence was pleasant. Abby was smiling to herself while washing her hands, and Marcus had a warm, fluttery feeling at the bottom of his stomach. All of his bitterness at the incident was fading away at the sight of her joy. It was more than alright to look like a complete fool every once in a while if only it made her smile. 

Or if it got her to call him anything of hers again.

Abby turned to him with her hands on her hips, her eyes gleaming as if she had thought of another way to torment him. "You know, this all reminds me of the story Nyko told me about his wife. Before they were wed, he had caught her trying to crawl into a bear's den to get back her spear. He had both fallen more in love with her but also realized with some horror that he could never let that poor thing out of his sight again. And that is the beautiful tale of how he decided he'd marry her. Right at that instant."

"So am I the bear in this story? Or the warrior who bravely went after her weapon?" Marcus smiled, leaning back. 

"No, you're still the drenched raccoon," Abby grinned. "Much like Jasper, I know I can't to let you into the wild again, who knows what might happen. Oh, what should I even do with you?"

"Follow Nyko's example," he joked. "Marry me. I can't promise I won't fall into the next gaping chasm full of poison ivy tomorrow, but at least you can rest easy knowing that I'll never wander off too far..."

His speech started faltering the moment he realized what exactly he had let out of his mouth, but then it was already too late. You could hear a pin drop in the room whose light atmosphere had turned into lead in a mere two seconds. 

Abby was looking at him with round eyes, and Marcus cursed himself for being so bad at banter. Either he completely tripped over his own tongue when she looked at him with that light, easy smile and a jest on her lips, or he did something colossally moronic like tell her to marry him. For goodness' sake, they had been only friends for a few months! He seemed to have completely lost his sense of boundaries. She was standing there with her late husband's ring around her neck and his brain leaped immediately into the most socially mortifying quip it could conjure. Because of course it did.

"That was a joke," he deadpanned. As if stating that would erase that it had happened.

But instead of Abby looking uncomfortable and them spending the rest of treatment in a excruciating silence, she broke into the brightest of smiles.

"We'll see. If you don't manage to keep yourself out of trouble I might just have to take you up on that offer."

Marcus stared at her, his jaw hanging open until he managed to regain his composure. She was only joking. She had gone on with the banter instead of bolting for the nearest door for which he couldn't be more grateful, but now he had a whole new source of panic. He had to think of a witty, nonchalant reply before the atmosphere sunk again. He opened his mouth, then closed it again in deliberation which made Abby let out a laugh.

"Sometimes you're just so cute I don't know what to do with you."

With that said, Abby rose to her tiptoes, grabbed the sides of his face and pressed a kiss on the top of his head, making Marcus wonder whether he would have gotten a kiss on his cheek if he hadn't been stupid enough to cover his face with a rash. 

"I need to go see other patients now, but let me know if the itching gets worse and I'll bring on some bigger guns," she said, dropping her hands. "See you later, suitor." She winked at him.

An obscure sound escaped from Marcus' throat that only vaguely resembled the 'see you' it was meant to express. Instead, it sounded more like a gargle of a man punched into his guts.

When Abby was gone, he propped his elbows on his thighs and drooped his head down, letting out a deep sigh.

"Don't worry, you'll get better at it," Nathan commented. He was resting on one of the beds with a similar layer of cream in his hands. He was the one who had climbed down to help Marcus out of his poison ivy hell. 

"Better at what?"

"Flirting," he said, smirking. 

Marcus scoffed. "I think I'd know if Abby was _flirting_ with me."

Miller then shot him such a withering look that it kept bothering him even long after his rash had healed. 

 

**ii.**

 

Marcus had always considered the knowledge of poetry to be part of the general education of every Ark citizen. For him, consuming the works of the greats such as Shakespeare, Keats, Dickinson, Neruda to name a few, had always felt like a duty that kept the culture of their homeworld alive. He had studied their verses coldly and analytically as he had done with every other subject he had read on, from agriculture to ancient religions. 

In the end, he hadn't gotten anything out of them. Poetry had simply been one of the few things he would never understand, but he had felt no regret over it. It had been, after all, only a waste of a time for a man like him. 

That was all before Abby Griffin became the love of his life. 

The woman in question smiled at him across the room as Roan adjourned a meeting with the ambassadors. She parted her lips as if to mouth his name in a summon, and that sight alone was enough material for more than a thousand sonnets. He rose to follow her the very second she glided out of the room, thinking little of the transparency of his actions. He didn't particularly care about the amused look of the other ambassadors. For the six days they had been in Polis, he had already spent every awake moment never too far from her.

Six days.

He couldn't believe he had been the happiest man on earth for such a short while. It felt like he already had spent a lifetime in love.

_Perhaps Shakespeare had been a genius all this time_ , he thought as he trailed after her across the hallways. She mirthfully glanced at him over her shoulder before quickening her steps. She challenged him into a playful little chase which he gladly accepted. He dashed after her, fully intent on capturing her in his arms and making her laugh in that carefree, young way that made his heart sing. 

She slipped into their shared quarters before he could catch her. He followed after her just in time to catch her marvel at the bathtub he had ordered, full of steaming hot water. 

"A hot bath just for me? Oh, Marcus, you shouldn't have," she said, smirking devilishly at him. 

"Actually, that's for me," Marcus said in the low, hoarse voice he knew Abby liked. She only flashed him a victorious smile and started tugging her clothes off at an impressive speed. Planning on racing her, Marcus grabbed the hem of his shirt in order to pull it over his head, but something stopped him. Namely, Abby's clothes billowing at her feet, leaving her naked and divine before his eyes. 

Abby let out a shameless little cackle as she had successfully shed all of her clothes and rushed to climb into the tub. Marcus watched the water flirt with her thighs as she sighed at the pleasurable temperature. After noticing him staring at her with great interest, she turned to face him with her arms akimbo. "So you decided to hand it to me after all?" She teased.

"I decided I'd rather enjoy the view," Marcus said, his eyes feasting on every inch of her bare skin on view. Abby smiled wickedly before letting her arms fall to her sides and allowing him to take in all of her. Marcus swallowed. The sight was pleasing, but the fact that she felt so comfortable with him admiring her was what shook him to his core. 

What was even more pleasing, Abby enjoyed looking at him as well. He saw her wet her lips as he finally dragged his shirt off and his hands fell to his belt buckle. "Don't even think about it. The tub is mine," she rasped out. 

God, he loved her throaty voice. It made him shiver from head to toe. 

Abby defiantly lowered herself into the water, watching Marcus' eyes darken as her body slowly disappeared under the surface. She quirked one challenging eyebrow at him, and he snapped. He kicked off the remnants of his clothes and crossed the room with only a few steps. Abby let out a cute little shriek as he stepped inside the tub, causing water to overflow and splash onto the floor. 

"Bastard, you get to dry the floor this time—" Abby said but was stopped by Marcus pulling her in his embrace and kissing her, smiling cheekily against her lips as more water poured over the rim. Abby sighed and happily wound her arms around his neck as Marcus joined their mouths again, slowly. All of a sudden, she didn't seem to mind about the water on the floor as the kiss deepened. Soon their wet bodies were molded into one as if they were exploring each other for the very first time again.

Marcus grabbed the sponge and more than gladly assisted Abby on scrubbing all of her body clean. He made sure every inch of her perfect skin was not left uninspected and she eagerly returned the favor until they were both limp in each other's arms, breathing shallowly.

"This feels like the best vacation I have taken in years," Marcus commented, watching Abby languidly untangle the wet knots of her hair in her position in the crook of his arm. Marcus itched to touch the silky texture of that golden brown river. 

"Polis is not exactly the most ideal of places for that," she sighed, combing her fingers through her curls. 

_Heaven, paradise, the promised land._ That was what Polis was to him at the moment. 

"Not true," he objected. 

Abby craned her neck around to look at him, smirking. "Maybe now that you have gotten your hot bath. I could smell you from the other side of that room. If there was just something we could do about all the grime in this place..."

"Believe me, it is not the dirt that was making me waste away all day," he growled into her ear, enjoying the sight of Abby shivering at his voice. "I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day..."

Abby threw her arms around him and laughed, a light, invigorating sound that poured pure joy into his veins. "Reciting poetry are you now? I have a feeling you had too much of Roan's wine," she said, her eyes teasing, happy. So happy Marcus almost believed it was possible for her to be as happy as him. 

"Maybe I'm just drunk on you," he murmured. 

"Stop it." Abby gave him a playful pat. "And I thought you had gotten all that syrupy stuff out of your system the first night."

The first night. The first time he had confessed how much she meant to him, the first time she had replied with the most beautiful sentence in the English language. The first time he had seen all of her bare perfection. The first time he had been inside her, the first time he had heard those soft, breathy gasps as pleasure overtook her, the first time he got to hold her against him as they drifted off to sleep together. The first time he had realized what all those damn poets had been talking about. 

Marcus' eyes crinkled as he looked at her. He reached out his hand and cupped her cheek, causing Abby to lean into his touch with her eyes closed, covering his hand with her own. Marcus unraveled at the sight. Such a simple gesture and he felt faint for everything he had ever and would ever feel for that tiny, beautiful woman.

He had never known an emotion as powerful as this. He felt young and light and in love, so hopelessly in love that everything but Abby and her blissful smile was a blur to him. He wanted to kiss every inch of her skin, every freckle and scar and blemish until there was no part of her left uncertain of his feelings. She was perfect in every single way. At the same time he yearned to lavish every inch of her with love, Marcus also wanted to put distance between them, study her lovely form from afar and demand the universe to reveal what he had done to deserve her. He couldn't recall a deed pure enough.

"How did I get to be so lucky? Tell me, Abby. Tell me what I did right and I'll never stop doing it."

Abby turned her head so that she could press a kiss on his palm."You keep being you and I'll love you forever," she whispered. 

He could never get tired of those three words falling from Abby's lips. It was like sweet balm to his wounds and honey to his heart. He just couldn't get enough of the softness of her voice, the sincerity in her eyes and the overwhelming love he felt for her in return. He coaxed her to repeat that sentence whenever he had the chance, with his lips, hands, or words of his own. Perhaps one day he would have heard it enough times to truly believe it. 

"Say that again," he pleaded, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," Abby said, her voice almost singing. Marcus closed his eyes at the sweet melody, making Abby chuckle.

"What? Am I not going to hear it back? she asked, brushing her lips playfully along his jaw.

"I have never been in love, not until now," Marcus whispered, his eyes still closed. "I might have felt like I was missing out if I didn't know how much you were worth waiting for."

Abby was quiet for the next few moments. Marcus opened his eyes only to see a sad look in hers. "Hey, it's okay," Marcus said, smiling. "It's nothing I could haven't done without."

"It makes me sad to hear that," she said softly, only to be stilled by his lips. After kissing her slowly and tenderly, Marcus withdrew.

"The world is ending. Let's not cling to small details like that, let's just..." Marcus tried to kiss her again but Abby evaded him with a smirk.

"...fuck until the Praimfaya sweeps over us?"

"Precisely," Marcus drawled, enjoying hearing such a vulgar word fall from Abby's lips.

"Hmm, I don't know," she said as Marcus started peppering her neck with light kisses. "Not that I don't love the idea of never leaving this room again, but there are other things on my end of the world bucket list.

"Like what?"

"Saving the world for instance," Abby teased.

"Oh yeah, that."

"I'd also like to swim in the ocean. Eat raw fish. Dye my hair. See the Northern Lights and my daughter happy again," she listed, her tone growing more wistful with each item. "What would you like to do?" she asked, playing with his hair. "Besides fucking," she smiled.

"I'd like to make each of those wishes true for you," he said solemnly. "Then, at the very end..." he paused. "I'd like to marry you."

Abby looked at him, surprised, and Marcus playfully lifted one eyebrow to signal his last words to be a question. Would that be okay?

He would be lying if he hadn't considering making Abby his wife one day during this past week. Marriage had never interested him before, but he had been quite a different man before falling for her, and now the hope for a future with her was effectively gnawing his heart for some living space. He knew it was too early to consider such things, especially now that they had a nuclear threat looming over their heads, but it couldn't hurt to lay some tentative plans in advance. After all, they had to feel the same way about this. Marcus could see it from her eyes. What they had was special and lasting.

After a long moment of deliberation, Abby replied. "It's no use to talk about bucket lists when we both know that surviving the Praimfaya is our primary goal. After that, we can talk about swimming in the ocean and what-not."

_What-not being a triviality such as marrying me_ , Marcus thought with a sting.

Abby noticed his forlorn expression and offered him a soothing smile. "Maybe someday," she replied, leaning down to kiss him deeply. Marcus returned her kiss, a corner of his mouth pulling hopefully upwards.

_Maybe_. That was as good of an answer as any. 

 

**iii.**

 

This time Marcus would surely leave her.

Abby considered the sentiment numbly. She had mulled it over in her head so many times it seemed like an inevitability she could do little about. 

Four years he had been with her in the bunker, and Abby had loved him so much it hurt, but she couldn't help but think his love for her had an expiration date. One day, likely sooner than later he would finally realize she was not the woman he had thought she was and walk away. And she would deserve it.

One would assume that the guilt went gradually away. At this point, Abby had relapsed and sought out her secret stash of pills so many times it should feel like a weekly occurrence. It seemed that she could only quit for a week at a time, the desperation for relief persisting in her bones every awake moment. Still, even the temporary high couldn't chase away the shame as she shuffled her feet to the room she shared with Marcus. 

It was more like a closet than a room, provided for the chief of medical as a sign of goodwill. There was only room for one bed they could both barely fit into where Marcus spent most of his days, thinking. Ever since Octavia had kicked him out of the council for openly defying her, he had been restlessly making plans in midst of periodic bouts of depression. He either slept all day or stayed up, writing out tractates against Octavia almost maniacally. Usually, he was too absorbed in his schemes or too numb from the hell day-to-day that was the life in the bunker to even notice whether Abby was high or not. On the nights he did see it, however, he only looked at her with a sad and defeated expression before turning over in the bed, leaving Abby faced with his back. Those nights Abby chose to spend working in medical. 

Tonight, however, Marcus was out of the bed, pacing in tight circles around the room. When Abby closed the door behind her, he started and turned to her. 

"Abby!" 

His eyes seemed a little clearer. They were not glued on a notebook filled with his feverish scribbles or glazed over like usually when he watched her. He even had a faint smile playing across her lips at the sight of her. It made her almost sob out. It had been so long since he had looked at her like that. 

Then again, she didn't exactly deserve any affection on his part. Not anymore, not after what she had done. 

He crossed the distance between them with one giant stride. He stared at her, his eyes full of warmth before slowly taking her head in his broad hands and pressing the softest kiss on her lips. Abby was stunned. Marcus' warm lips were gentle and chaste. Her head was swimming and her footing unsteady by the moment he withdrew. She didn't know whether she was dizzy from the opioids or from the sheer fact that Marcus had kissed her again.

"Did you have a good day, love?" he asked, as if this was a part of their normal routine; Abby rushing home from work into her lover's arms and telling him all about her day while he smiled and nodded, maybe rubbed her shoulders and told her about what he had accomplished that day. Such a nice little fantasy.

She was too afraid to answer. One word and Marcus would know she had taken the pills again. It would kill her to see the rare happiness pour out of him as the realization hit him. She couldn't do it. She couldn't disappoint him again.

Abby immediately started looking for a way out, her eyes flickering here and there like those of a panicked animal. Marcus stalled her by grabbing her shoulders, smiling gently.

"It's okay, love. Come here."

He sat at the edge of the bed, folding her in his arms. Abby pressed sluggishly against his chest, feeling more nauseous than ever as Marcus stroked her hair. She should be crying at the display of such undeserved tenderness, but her tears had already been spent back in the medical just after she had gulped down a handful of pills. Now she could stare in front of him with cold sweat clinging to her forehead, not daring to even breathe for the fear of Marcus noticing her condition.

"I've got you something," Marcus whispered. He reached into his pocket to reveal something wrapped up in a handkerchief. She stared at it blankly, trying to swallow down the bile that was insistent on climbing up her throat.

He opened up the bundle, showing Abby a piece of a carrot. "I saved it from better times," Marcus whispered, pressing his lips gently on her forehead. He was referring to the time before the dark year which was starting to seem a lot like a distant dream in Abby's mind. "It's for you."

I can't, Abby tried to say but only a choked up, ugly sound was able to escape her throat. Marcus must have worked himself to the bone to get her that. Her head was weighing a ton, and his presence only made the pain worse. Both her body and mind were screaming in agony.

"Today is a special day," Marcus said softly, trying to press the piece of vegetable in Abby's hands. Her fingers couldn't obey her and wrap around the gift. The bundle ended up resting unsteadily on her trembling palm. "I kept count. It has been exactly four years since our first night in Polis."

The pain surged into Abby's head stronger than ever. She couldn't even remember what the day of the week was. It hardly even mattered. She let out a miserable little sound and Marcus rushed to wrap his arm around her again.

"I know it's hard, but we need to have hope that we'll somehow be able to get out of here. Clarke and the others will think of something." He comforted in a shaky voice. "I know they will. We will have a future together, I promise." He tilted Abby's jaw up to look softly into her eyes. "Do you remember what I said in Polis?"

Abby moved her head in a way that somewhat resembled a nod. That was all she was able to do. Marcus' expression brightened, just a little bit. "I promised I would make your every wish come through," he paused, then added tentatively. "I also said I would make you my wife."

When Abby didn't react, Marcus' grip on her tightened. "I love you, Abby. I love you more than anything. I have felt this way for four years now. I want— I want so badly to marry you. It's all I can think about. I feel like it's the thing we both need to push through his."

His expression crumbled a little as Abby still remained unresponsive. She had never hated herself more for relapsing. The room was dancing before her eyes, and Marcus' pleading face was appearing double.

"Please, Abby. Say something. Anything," he begged. "Even no will do."

The piece of a carrot dropped from her slack fingers onto the dirty floor. Drool and vomit dribbled out of her mouth onto his shirt as the poisonous effect of the pills finally took over. Abby was glad she couldn't see the expression on Marcus' face as he realized she had broken yet another promise of sobriety to him, but the frosty silence that had taken over the room told her exactly what he had to be thinking. He offered her a few disheartened slaps on her back to get the rest of the vomit out of her system. After a moment, she could feel him pulling away from him, and she felt the need to cling to his shirt and beg him not to leave, but she knew she had no right. 

Marcus returned soon with a towel. Abby felt him start to gently dab her face with the cloth. That was when the only tears she had left in her body leaked out. After he had helped her out of her dirty shirt, she passed out on the bed.

She didn't feel Marcus turn her to lie on her side so she wouldn't choke on her own bile. She didn't notice a blanket being draped over her. She didn't see him throw away the carrot.

The only thing she did see was Marcus hunched over at the edge of the bed, hours later when she woke up. His whole body was rocking with sobs.

 

**iv.**

 

Marcus was seething as Diyoza's men escorted him back to the gas station. Their little discussion at the gazebo had proved little else than that the general had the same war-hungry tendencies as Octavia. He knew he had to help her to make himself useful and protect Abby, but it didn't take away the bitter taste in his mouth. If that woman wasn't careful, the beautiful place they were now walking through could soon be flowing with blood. Marcus had little faith in a woman that kept feeding Abby's addiction for her own selfish gains and feigned innocence. 

_The pill thing is between you and your wife._

He hated the fact he'd had to correct her. Abby wasn't his wife, but not for the lack of trying. The way Diyoza had looked at him, her expression arrogant and calculating at the reveal, had only enraged him more. He knew what she and her men had to be thinking. Because he and Abby were not married, to them it seemed like she meant less to him than she truly did. As if she was only an occasional quick fuck to him instead of the love of his life.

He could hear the scorn from the felon's voice as he roughly ushered him inside the gas station "back to his  _friend_ " _,_ and saw it in the way the man looked Abby up and down as she studied the files with her back turned to them. Marcus felt the urge to grab the man by the collar for even daring to lay his eyes on her and hiss that he would never know love like Marcus had with Abby.

After the man had left with a death glare from Marcus fixed at his back, he directed his eyes at the beautiful woman in front of him, Diyoza's words ringing in his mind. Your wife. Maybe it was all this fresh air after the years of living underground, but his head seemed drastically clearer now. He knew what he wanted in every bone of his body, and for the first time in forever he saw a world where he could _have_ it. 

Abby turned around as she sensed movement from behind her. Her eyes filled with plain relief at the sight of him. "You're okay," she whispered, taking a step toward him. For a moment it seemed as if she was going to raise her hand and touch him, but she withdrew it and tensed as if she expected Marcus to push her away instead of welcoming her touch. After all, before he had been taken away he had harshly demanded Abby to hand him the pills, disappointed and angry. It was no wonder she was anxious. 

Those damned pills. He had hated them more than anything, and that was saying something in the world of blood and injustice Blodreina had rulef. But this would be the last day they stood between him and the woman he loved. This was their new beginning, the first hopeful day of the rest of their lives, and he would allow no poison to take it away from her. 

Before Abby could react, he had surged forward, and her face was captured between his hands and his lips pressed against hers. Abby let out a surprised gasp into his mouth which only fueled the fire inside him. His hands threaded into her hair as Abby finally melted against him, allowing him to wound his arms tightly around her.

"Damn the whole word," he growled between his kisses, lowering his attentions lower and lower along her beautiful neck. " _I'm_ _keeping you."_

"But I took the pills," Abby sighed as his lips latched onto her sensitive skin, savoring her with a bruising force. She was referring to the unspoken clause in their relationship. Marcus wouldn't touch her if he even suspected her having unscrewed one of her secret pill bottles. Now that he thought about it, it all seemed like a rather useless punishment for them both. Abby had only taken enough to be functional and was very much able to consent. He had grown weary of trying to fight his desire for her. 

"That's a subject for later," he said firmly, pushing that devil in the furthest corner of his mind.

He brushed his fingers over the purple marks he had just painted on the milky skin of her neck."We're back on Earth, Abby," he rasped out. "I never thought I would see sunlight, green forests and flowers again. I never thought I would get to be here with you."

There was always a possibility of finding Abby cold and motionless in his bed, a bottle of pills in her fist, and the fear of it had chipped him away every day. That wasn't even the only way he could've lost her in the case Octavia found her stash and decided to punish her for her crimes. He'd always valued her life over his so it was ony the natural progression for him to bleed in the fighting pit for her. In preparation of that event, he had spent many  nights tracing the lines of her face with his fingertips, trying to memorize every detail — the dark fan of her lashes as she slept, the downward bow of her lips, the delicate bones of her cheeks that made her look frighteningly beautiful.

He never truly believed he would get to take her back on the ground. He never thought he could have _her_ to begin with. So how could he not keep holding on with teeth and claw, despite everything? 

Abby quivered as Marcus tilted her head to press a lingering kiss on his jaw. "The files," she sobbed out as Marcus' lips moved to suck on her pulse point. As an explicit answer to that, Marcus swept the whole pile from the desk onto the floor, making sure the pill bottle clattered down too. With one fierce motion, he hoisted Abby up on the table. He would've preferred the first time he made love to her on the ground to be under the stars, perhaps on some meadow filled with flowers, but as the situation was what it was, having Abby naked and willing on any reasonably flat surface was more than he had dared to hope.

He bit back curses as he attempted to rip off all the straps confining Abby in her clothing. The whole contraption seemed to be specifically designed to drive him mad. Unsuccesful in ridding her of the jacket, Marcus halted for a moment in order to glance over his shoulder at the door. He prayed that Diyoza or her men wouldn't bother them for a few hours. When he turned his gaze back, Abby had already shedded her jacket off and was slowly unbuttoning her shirt before him, a dark look in her eyes.

Marcus licked his lips. What was better than unwrapping a present was having her unwrap herself. When she was finally bared to him, she didn't shy away from his appreciative gaze like the first few nights in Polis, a lifetime ago. They had done this long enough for Marcus to have learned every line, mark and curve by heart. He filled his impatient hands with her skin.

Touching Abby was like coming home. The feel of her full breasts in his hands, her soft sighs as he trailed his lips down her body, the way she trembled in anticipation as Marcus unzipped his pants and aligned himself at her entrance all filled him with solace. It was as if he was recalling a beautiful memory thought to be lost forever. 

Abby's hands tangled in his hair to guide him. Rough tugs meant she wanted faster and harder, and tender caress of his scalp signified the need to slow down, to let the sensations build. She was perfect and snug around him, and the deeper she took him the more at peace he felt.  _My wife_ , he thought as he thrust home and Abby keened from pleasure.  _My wife_ , he mouthed like a prayer while they moved in perfect harmony, their foreheads pressed together. She urged Marcus on with unintelligible, pleading whispers and he knew she was close. She wrapped her legs around him and Marcus clutched at her thighs, initiating their final dance. 

Soon the only things falling from her lips were gasps and cries which Marcus encouraged, chanting beautiful beautiful and let me hear you again and again. Abby trembled and eventually collapsed against him, soft and loose-limbed. Marcus came inside her a moment later, a wish on his lips. _My wife_. 

He carried her to the little bed in the corner of the room where they could both rest more comfortably after their lovemaking. Abby languidly threaded her fingers through his hair, looking content. Marcus smiled. She had never voiced her direct approval of his longer hair, but her eagerness to run her hands through his curls every chance she got told Marcus enough of her feelings on the matter. 

They had been together for six years now. They were back on earth, a future full of hope hovering right within their reach. Surely, if they had peace and the valley he could make her happy again, and she would no longer need the pills. 

_My wife_ , he considered again, studying Abby's calm, loving expression. He had been burned before when he had broached the subject, but was he crazy by thinking she might want the same thing now that they finally had a chance? 

"Diyoza referred to you as my wife today," he said.

Abby froze. He could feel how her fingers stopped stroking his hair and stilled midair, unsure on how to proceed. Marcus wished to be able to pick apart her brain and see what she was thinking. 

"I had to correct her," Marcus said, his voice gaining a determined, bold edge. "Next time, I'd like _not_ to do that."

The statement had been presented as a firm question that wouldn't go without an answer. Now he only had to wait for her to give it to him. He waited patiently, his dark gaze following her lips parting and then closing again, sampling the words she would give to him in return. 

"We're in the middle of a war, Marcus," Abby said finitely. The statement seemed like a full stop to all their previous conversations on the matter. Not now. 

Not ever? Marcus wanted to ask but didn't, resorting to only begging for a reply with his eyes. But Abby had already turned her back at him. "I better get back to work," she said quietly, propping herself up from the bed. 

Marcus lay on the bed, unable to move and think little else than the resoundingly negative answer he had received while Abby put on her clothes. She walked away from him, and it felt like another devastating punch. 

Sometimes he wondered if he was willfully setting his own heart to break by asking the same question over and over again. 

 

**v.**

It looked bad. Even as a doctor who had seen her fair share of battle wounds, the sight in front her was horrifying. There was a gushing red wound where Abby's lips had caressed Marcus just a few days ago, and his stomach was baked in blood from multiple stabs of a scalpel. Fortunately, they didn't seem to have dug deep enough to damage his internal organs, but he was still bleeding out and fast.

Abby's palm were a mix of snow white and blood where she had been violently applying pressure to the two wounds. She took a look at her hands, then at the man she loved, quietly suffering next to her. No. She couldn't spare a second for hesitation. One more moment to take in the weight of the situation, and she would break.

Without laying another look at him, she rushed to her surgical equipment. She would patch him up even if it took days, even if dozens of McCreary's stormed in and tried to detain her, even if the world itself caught fire. She couldn't allow an universe to exist where she had failed to save him. There wouldn't be any universe where she could live without him.

"Hold on baby, hold on," Abby murmured, attempting to untangle the IV tubes while at the same time shuffling through bags of blood. Her hands were shaking.

"Abby..." came a faint voice. 

She almost dropped everything in her hands at the shock of hearing his voice, but pure adrenaline-fueled desperation kicked in and forced her to retain her level-headedness. It was a bad sign he was rapidly going in an out of consciousness. She would have to put him under anesthesia immeditaly.

She hurried to Marcus' side, starting to set up the equipment. "Please don't try to speak.. It's going to be okay, baby. Just hold on," she said in a strained voice. "I'm going to fix this."

"I love you," Marcus slurred, barely aware of his surroundings. "I forgive you. Please, never forget that. I love you—"

"Stop saying that! You're not dying on me," Abby spat out, stamping the IV on his wrist. "I refuse to be widowed twice."

Marcus drew his lips back in a way that almost resembled a smile. "Is that a yes?" he whispered, his eyes half-lidded. "Answer to a question I have kept on asking..." 

Abby wasted a few precious seconds by staring at him, not knowing what to say. It sounded like a delirious man's final wish. She felt beyond tempted to offer him the relief of a simple, beautiful _yes_ even if that was not truly what he wanted, not after everything Abby had put him through, but she couldn't. It would be like admitting defeat.

When she could only offer him silence as an answer, Marcus began with a faltering voice. "It's alright. I'm not being serious. I know why you always said no. Jake is your husband. Not me. I think I have made my peace with it."

His voice faded out as he struggled to remain conscious. Abby gaped at him in shock. Is that what he had been thinking this whole time? 

Before she could reply to him the IV machine gave an accusatory bleep and she had darted towards it. A few moments later the machine started pumping blood into Marcus' veins and she returned with an oxygen mask.

"We'll talk about that once you're are back on your feet," she said gently, covering his mouth with the mask. The look in Marcus' eyes just before he closed them was tender, accepting. Abby didn't know whether it was accepting of her words or of the uncertain fate ahead of him. She prayed that there was enough hope left in his heart to fight this. Because if he didn't... there was no hope for her either to push though. 

_He_ was her hope.

* * *

Almost half of the 400 people who had made it to the ship had been injured. Jackson took as much patients as he could, but Abby expertise was needed with nearly every seriously wounded patient. She tended to them numbly, a constant dark haze shrouded over her eyes. 

"You should be with your man," one of her patients said, startling Abby. It was a woman Abby had no recollection of, but her eyes looked back at hers as if the stranger knew her better then herself. "I know I'm not the one you would want to be stitching up together right now."

Abby had left Marcus into the cryo pod with the threadbare hope in her heart that the articial sleep could save him. Remembering him lying there, cold and unmoving made her almost burst into tears. 

"I— I have done everything I could for him," she said with a trembling voice.

The woman looked at her, her expression sympathetic but somewhat disbelieving. Abby treated the gash in her head, biting back bitter tears until Jackson tapped at her shoulder and ordered her to take a breather. 

She walked out of the makeshift medbay and didn't stop. She walked throught the hallway, her feet finding the way to the cryo chamber almost out of their own voltion. Abby knew she should stay out, Clarke had especially told her so in order to keep her mind occupied with less harrowing things. But how could she shift her thoughts from anything other than the man he loved dying for more than a milisecond? 

She kneeled in front of Marcus' pod and looked at his sleeping face, pressing her hand on the glass above him as if it could bring her any closer to him. He looked almost peaceful. She wished that could bring her even an once of comfort. She rested her head on the glass cover and wept quietly until there were no tears left, only brittle little gasps as she struggled to breathe. She may never be able to hear him whisper her name again, never feel him press kisses on her fingers, never be able to tell him she loves him and see his face break into a surprised smile. 

Yes," she said so quietly only she could hear her own voice. "My answer is yes."

The sleeping man did not answer, but retained his peaceful expression as Abby whispered her vow to him over and over again until exhaustion overtook her. Her daughter eventually found her curled up against the glass, and with the help from Bellamy, carried her to her own pod next to Marcus.

She slept for 125 years. Marcus slept for four months more. 

 

**_i._ **

 

Marcus woke up to sunlight streaming to his face. His eyes fluttered open slowly, taking in the brightness. The light was almost blinding and struck him with an instant headache. He struggled to prop himself up. Every member of his body felt like lead.

He had been lying in some sort of an open capsule, but to his surprise, he found that someone had tucked him in with a soft, pink blanket. He clutched the fabric in his hand, puzzled, before looking around for any sign of others. 

He was inside some sort of a makeshift dwelling with other pods. There didn't seem to be any more people sleeping in them, only a young man napping in a chair in the corner of the room. 

"Where am I?" Marcus asked, causing the boy to wake up with a wet snort. After recovering, he turned to look at him drowsily, as if he was not quite seeing him. Then his eyes flew open and he stumbled out of the chair, mouth gaping. 

"You are actually awake! I can't believe it!" 

Marcus stared at the boy in utter confusion. He looked young, but he didn't look like any of the delinquents nor appeared to be from any grounder clan he knew of. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

He slapped his hand on his forehead. "Oh no, I'm sorry, of course you don't have any idea what the hell is going on! I'm Jordan. Do you remember Monty Green and Harper McIntyre? I'm their son."

Marcus blinked, slowly taking in the information. "How long was I asleep?" 

Jordan's face twisted. It looked very obvious he didn't want to reveal the answer. "125 years or so," he eventually said, grimacing.

"What?!"

He tried to climb up from the pod, causing the blanket to fall from around him. Marcus' eyes immediately found the terrible scarring on his stomach. After exploring the feel of the ugly, jagged edges of his wound, he lifted his fingers to his neck and found a thick bandage. The news didn't sink in until then. He had actually survived Vinson's attack. Although not without a scratch, and he might or might not be hallucinating Harper and Monty's offspring from the future. 

_Abby_ , was his next thought. He must have said her name aloud in a shrill voice because Jordan smiled.

"Don't worry, you're not the only one who slept through a century. We were all put into cryo-sleep to get to this place. Abby could probably explain everything better. She was just here a couple of hours ago to check up on you. Man, you two really have the worst of luck. You finally get together and then the world ends, you get back together and you fall into a coma! She is usually at your bedside, holding your hand and telling you all sort of stories, but today she went to the river to do laundry with the others. I have Kane duty, as they call it, every Sunday when she needs to go the river which is fine but I always get so sleepy in the sunlight—"

"Wait, how many Sundays was I in coma?"

 "About the amount of Sundays in four month's time," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Marcus' blood ran cold. He had been out for four months.He couldn't even imagine what Abby must have been thinking. Had there been a tiny part of her that believed he would never wake up? Marcus didn't even dare to entertain that thought. 

Four months seemed like forever when he could've been with her, and he felt robbed by the universe. But what pained him the most was that Abby must have gone months not knowing how proud he was of her for getting clean and for saving all those people without any influence from pills. There hadn't been time to tell her before he had cruelly been ripped away from her by Vinson.

There was so much he needed to say to her.

"I need to see her. Now." 

Marcus had his feet on the ground before the boy could react. Every limb ached, understandably so as he had as he seemed to have laid more than hundred years in the same position, wounded and cold. Still, desperation to see her gave new force to his steps. 

Jordan rushed after him. "Your girlfriend will be so happy. It feels kinda weird to call her that. _Girlfriend_. I don't know why it irks me—"

"Because we are old?" Marcus prompted gruffly. "Or lerhaps you assumed we should be married now?" That was just what he needed, some salt into the old wound. 

"I just think she seems more to you than that. She really does love you a ridiculous amount judging by the way she looks at you. Don't know about the term husband though. She burst into tears when I referred to you as that."

Marcus' chest tightened. Abby shouldn't be crying over him. A hundred years may have passed but he still felt he wasn't worth her tears. How could he? He had walked away from her when she had been in her most vulnerable only for the pain in his own heart. 

"Please, show me where she is," Marcus pleaded.

Now serious, Jordan led Marcus out of the dwelling into blinding sunlight. The wildflowers and the trees, the two blazing suns, the whole vast landscape was unlike anything he had ever seen. It was breathtaking but heartbreaking all the same. This was not Earth, this was not _home_ and he had a sinking feeling that they had left it all behind for good.

He followed Jordan along the downward slope of a hillside. He could already hear cheerful noises in the distance and pricked up his ear for a voice he could recognize even asleep. He quickened his pace, desperately pushing branches out of his way under which Jordan had no problem ducking. The voices grew louder and Marcus' breath lodged in his throat. 

The sound of water splashing struck him into his senses. Now he was running, and Jordan was left long behind. Soon he could see the glimmering river and blurry figures standing in the water. The burning behind his eyelids was blinding. In an instant, he had stomped into the water and was wading towards the woman with golden brown hair tumbling down her shoulders, some of her strands dyed with a novel red color but an unmistakable silver strand running amidst them. She was facing the other direction, standing in the sunlight like an angel, and as Marcus stumbled to her she turned around and cried out in shock. Before he even knew it, he was weeping and had lifted her off the water into his arms.

He had her clutched against his chest, some of her hair in his mouth while she was sobbing so hard she couldn't breathe, her hands crawling across his scalp and tangling in his hair almost painfully. It was clumsy and desperate how their mouths finally met. Her lips kept slipping off from his because he was directing all of his concentration on keeping Abby hoisted up and his legs around him until his efforts had them both laughing with tears leaking from their eyes, and he stumbled backwards, almost bringing Abby down with him.

He ended up lowering her so that he was sitting in the shallow water, cradling Abby in his arms, kissing her softly and wiping away her tears as they poured down her cheeks.

"I love what you have done with your hair," Marcus murmured, slipping his fingers through her red curls. She must have used similar berries as Clarke. The result was gorgeous. 

"Clarke called it my getting-over-you hair," she sniffled. Her eyes filled with tears again. "I thought— I thought I could never again—" 

"It's okay my love, it's okay," Marcus comforted, kissing her saltwater skin. "I'm here."

Abby lowered her head on the crook of his neck and rested it there for a long time while Marcus held her. Eventually, he had to scoop her up in his arms again as the water got cold and carry her to the riverbank. Some men and women he recognized from the bunker and even some Eligius III felons greeted him, smiling. Marcus offered them a curt nod and gladly accepted a towel he  wrapped around Abby's shoulders.

"It's good to be back," he replied to one well-wisher while keeping his eyes fixed on Abby. She smiled at him like the sun in return.

When everyone else had left with their laundry baskets and they had been left alone, Abby was finally able to fill him in on what had happened while he had been in a coma. McCreary had launched the missile that had destroyed Eden, and Octavia of all people had helped Abby to get Marcus to safety. Traveling to the new planet had taken 125 years, and the whole place was still a wild mystery to most of them. Clarke and Bellamy had formed an exploratory group and left some weeks ago to survey the surroundings of the vast valley they had landed in.

"I'm sorry you didn't get to see them," Abby said, stroking Marcus palm with her thumb. "Clarke wanted to wait until you woke up, but you were out for months."

"And I'm sorry for leaving alone all those months." He clasped Abby's fingers with his own. 

"It's hardly your fault," Abby said with a hollow voice. "If I had not made a deal with Vinson—"

"It's not your fault either," Marcus murmured, lifting their joined hands to press a tender kiss on Abby's knuckles. "He was the monster in that story, never you."

After that, Abby kept silent for a long time which started slowly to worry him. Instead of pressing her, however, he brushed a featherlight kiss on each of her fingertips until she teared up and began to speak again. "Sometimes I wonder why you still keep loving me after each passing year is worse than the previous one.

"Abby—"

"I know I'm your first and only love, and it probably has something to do with it. How can you know there's something better out there than me if you have never gotten a taste of it?"

"Please don't say so, love."

Abby turned away from him, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. "I love you desperately and I know you feel the same way, but I also want you to know that I'm not the only woman you could feel that way about. Even if it pains me, I have to tell you it's okay to cut your losses at some point since I'm not exactly the woman you fell in love with anymore. I would understan—"

"Goddammit, Abby." Marcus grabbed her face firmly in his hands and brought her lips to his. The kiss was rough and hungry but Abby didn't seem to mind. After the initial shock, Abby kissed him back and let out an approving, low sound from the back of her throat that made his ever-present desire for her ignite. She fisted her hands around his shirt and was eager to deepen to kiss, but Marcus broke apart out of the desperation to tell her how things were actually like. "Abby, god, Abby, can't you see that there's a reason I have never felt even remotely the same way about anyone else?" 

There was a prickly, sharp thing trapped in his throat as he looked at her disbelieving expression. He cradled her face, pressing his forehead against hers as he began. "You are the only one for me. Before you, no one had any sway over me. I was cold and empty. My love, my stubborn, infuriating little thing, you saved me, you made me complete in a way no one else could. In the bunker, you were the reason I kept breathing and hoping. In Diyoza's camp, you were the basis of every decision I made. More than anything, I wanted to protect you and have a future with you. I still do."

Abby was crying again, and Marcus would have been lying if he claimed tears hadn't blurred his vision as well. Yet, his voice persisted, unwavering. "I love you, Abby. If you choose to walk away from me now, I will never love anyone else. You have spoiled me that bad," he said in broken chuckles. Abby smiled at him weakly. "How could I ever meet someone with a heart like yours? Your soul is one of a kind, and call me greedy but I won't have no less."

Abby let out a half laugh, half sob. "You and your romantic speeches. How do you expect me to answer that?"

"How about 'I hear you, Marcus. You love me just the way I am. Forever, in sickness and health and I shall never doubt that again'."

"I'll try. But you have to promise you'll forgive yourself as well. This is just the place for that." Abby wiped her eyes, smiling. "We have peace. We have people building houses and growing fruits. The only patients I receive have bruised knees or the common cold. Can you believe?"

Marcus smiled but there was lingering sadness in his heart. This is just what he had imagined as he had seen that meadow in Eden. But they were not on Earth, and it felt that a part of him had been left behind. His mother's legacy had died with their home planet. Abby seemed to sense what he was thinking because she squeezed his hand comfortingly. 

"I know it's not home—"

"You're my home," Marcus cut in. "I will love this planet like I loved Earth if I only have you here. I will cherish this place and make sure no harm ever comes to it. That's what my mother would have wanted for Earth. This time, her will be honored. This is where I will share my life with you. 

Abby looked up at him with sparkling eyes. For some reason, she was frantically nodding at him before winding her arms around him and embracing him tightly. "Yes," she breathed out. "Yes, yes, yes."

Marcus arched an eyebrow at her and Abby continued, looking a little awkward. "All of us can have a life here. The first baby has already been born and others are to follow."

Marcus mouth fell open. "Diyoza's?"

Abby nodded. "Motherhood suits her. Interestingly enough, we have sort of became friends. She asks for my advice and drinks with me sometimes. We curse men together, you know, for nuking the Earth and falling in coma, respectively."

Marcus chuckled. "I'm sorry to have missed all that."

"She named her after your suggestion. Baby Hope. We can go see her if you'd like."

"I'd love that," Marcus said, touched. His face broke into a smile. It felt like he was already leaving an imprint on this planet.

"We can go, but don't blame me if we get put on diaper duty."

Marcus laughed. He helped Abby get up on her feet and together they started traipsing towards Diyoza's place, Abby's head leaning against his shoulder and her hand in his.

* * *

 

Three weeks passed before Abby brought it up.

They were holding hands and walking together on a narrow path circling a lake, and Marcus felt warm and content.

Or, as content he could be after three weeks of only chaste kisses and platonic bedsharing. He had assumed Abby wasn't ready for the intimacy they had used to enjoy, but he fully hadn't expected to be slipping back to the purgatory akin to Arkadia where he'd had to constantly refrain himself from kissing her. He hadn't survived a good chunk his jugular being chewed out only to hold hands with her for the rest of his life.

Something had to be up, judging by the sly look Abby sometimes threw in his direction while she was changing clothes, allowing Marcus a yearned glimpse of her bronzed, bare skin. He couldn't understand for the life of him why she kept teasing him, yet lifting her finger on Marcus' lips whenever he tried to kiss her. "Be patient," she would tell him. "Not too much longer now."

To say Marcus was confused would be the understatement of the year. 

But now during their walk, Abby opened her mouth and said something so bewildering no previous utterances could strike him equally as odd anymore.

"Clarke is coming back in two week's time. I think we should have the wedding then. I want her to be present."

Abby turned to look at Marcus after noticing he had halted behind her, holding her hand hostage. "What is it now, baby?" she asked, confused by his stupefied expression. 

"The wedding?" he stammered.

Abby lifted her brow. "Yes? We need to have one at some point. Or did you want to have no ceremony at all? Honestly, that's not the Marcus Kane I know..."

"I wasn't aware that there was a wedding happening," he said, looking at her with his brow almost reaching his hairline.

Despitetehis confusion, hope was gnawing at his heart. Was there a chance that Abby actually wanted...?

Abby looked back at him just as bemused, until a look of horror spread across her features. "A couple of weeks ago by the riverbank, you weren't proposing when you said you would share your life with me?"

"Not exactly," Marcus said, slightly amused. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Every word was true but I didn't exactly mention marriage in the bargain."

Now Abby was bright red. "You had asked me so many times I just assumed—"

"That if I made myself vague enough I could trick you into accepting my proposal?" Marcus grinned which only made Abby bury her head in her hands with embarrassment.

"My love, don't feel bad," Marcus chuckled, not able to contain his little burst of laughter. He captured the flushed woman in his embrace even though Abby tried to half-heartedly wriggle out of it. However, his arms loosened from around her as a realization struck him. "Wait, was that why you wanted to wait before having sex with me?"

Abby let out a humiliated little sound into his shirt. Now Marcus was guffawing, his face buried in her hair and his arms twisted tightly around her. "I really do appreciate the romantic gesture," he laughed, smacking a kiss on top of her head. "But please do confirm your plans with me first. I'd like to be on the same page when it comes to weddings and, hmm — sex," he said, craning his neck in order to look around. "Luckily, this misunderstanding can easily be fixed." They would only need a soft cover and a quiet place where nobody would look for them. It was about time to christen their new home. 

Before Marcus could make a move, however, Abby grabbed his shoulders. "Marcus."

"Yes, love?" he smiled.

"Be serious with me now for a moment," she released her hold of him and drew in a deep breath. Then she looked up at him, her eyes brimming with so much vulnerability Marcus' breath caught in his throat. 

"Would you like to marry me?" she whispered.

Marcus stared at her with his lips parted for a long moment before Abby drooped her head down and started wringing her hands. "Of course, if it's not what you want anymore—"

"I do want that," he said quickly.

"It's just that... you had a weird expression on your face when I asked."

"I was just surprised.

"In a good way or a bad way?"

Marcus smiled weakly. "I'm just astounded with how little romance you popped the big question," he jested. "You weren't even on one knee."

"I know that's not the real reason, Marcus."

His expression grew more serious. "To be honest, after the bunker I never thought the question of marriage would come up again. Especially not after you rejected me at the gas station. I assumed..."

"What did you assume?" Abby prompted, her eyes big and pleading.

"...that you wouldn't want to marry again. Not after Jake. He was your husband and it would be cruel for me to try to take that away from you. From him."

"Oh, Marcus," Abby said, entwining her hands with his again. "The only reason I said no was because you always managed to have the most nightmarish timing. I didn't want to allow myself the pleasure of thinking about a future with you when it could maybe never come true. In Polis the world was ending, we thought we were going to die in the bunker, and at Diyoza's camp, I didn't think I deserved to have you. But everything is different now. We have peace. I want to make plans with you. I want to build a little house somewhere and live there with you until the day we die. I love you, and I never want to be apart from you again. Not by distance, not by pills, not by war."

She paused before continuing with a voice that was light and frail as a feather. "I thought I would never love again, but that's not what was meant to be. You're my husband. I think you always were, even before either of us knew. "

"I love you too," Marcus whispered, fraught with more emotion he knew what to do with. He tried to pour his feelings into actions and leaned in to gather her face in his hands and kiss her, but Abby evaded him. "Let me finish, baby."

With that said, she kneeled down prettily in front of him, still holding his hand. His throat clogged up.

"Yes," he said.

Abby let out a faint laugh, looking coyly down. "Stick to the script and make it easy for me. I have never done this before."

"Yes," Marcus replied again, earning a sharp look from Abby. "I mean, yes, I'll stick to the script," he smiled. 

"Will you marry me?"

Instead of parroting his previous answer, Marcus joined Abby on the ground and pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply. Abby answered his kiss, but only to break apart every few seconds and laughingly demand a real answer. Marcus only kissed and kissed and kissed her in return until Abby could not help but accept that as his reply.

Only after they had ended up christening their home that same night, did he offer her his true answer. It was whispered against her heart as they lay naked together on top of his jacket under the starry skies.

"I will. I will. I will."

* * *

They had a saying on Earth that it was bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. Fortunately, Marcus had never been the most traditional of men. The day Clarke returned with the others he spent his morning picking wildflowers from the field. Abby had talked about having some in her hair for the wedding, and Marcus promptly fulfilled her wish. Later, he returned to Abby who was sitting on their bed in a light, wispy dress some other women had helped her sew. She was trying to braid her hair. Marcus sat next to her and silently started to weave little daisy-like flowers into her hair. No words were needed. Abby only looked at him with her beautiful brown eyes, full of love.

"Are you ready to go there?" she asked after the last flower was fixed on its place. 

"Actually, not yet," Marcus admitted. 

Abby scrunched up her nose. "Really? You did almost burst a blood vessel when Clarke's return was delayed."

Marcus smiled. "Would it be crazy if I told you I'd actually love to keep you as my fiancée for a little while longer?"

"Yes."

Abby studied him with an amused expression on her face as Marcus tried to scramble together an explanation. "It's just that... we have gone through so much. Our home was wiped out by a nuclear wave, we had to suffer through six years of hell in the bunker only for our second chance to be bombed down. But now we're here, it's been five months and everything is still green, beautiful and peaceful. There are houses and gardens and parties, Diyoza has a little baby and we are going to get married."

"Not by this pace," Abby quipped.

Marcus turned to his bride, his words full of reverence. "This is a place where babies are born and people get engaged. Isn't that  amazing? It's all anyone could have dreamed of." He squeezed Abby's hand. "That's why I like the word fiancée. It gives you hope, doesn't it? The word itself is a promise for a happier future."

"Marcus, you know that I already love you, right? You don't need to keep saying stuff like that to make me fall for you more."

"Do you want me to stop?" he teased. 

"Never," Abby purred. "But as much I'd love to stay as your fiancée and hear more material you have stolen from your poetry books, I'd also really like to get married because unlike fiancées, wives get to kiss their husbands."

"That is a very good point."

_If the word fiancée was a promise of a happier future, wife was the beginning of it,_ Marcus thought as he clasped his hand within his bride's.

He turned to beam at Abby before they left their little dwelling. She smiled back at him, her eyes already shimmering with barely concealed tears of joy.

Together, they stepped out.

 


End file.
